


Some Cupid kills with Arrows

by hideyourfires



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 18:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14574954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideyourfires/pseuds/hideyourfires
Summary: The wound itself is tiny; Beau had caught the arrow before it had stuck into him, snapping it over her knee in triumph. Still, it had nicked his skin - at his side, just between the clasps of his armour, a small puncture in the soft material of his clothing.He had thought it an unusual target. He supposes now that it makes sense.Now that his blood feels like sludge in his veins. Now he feels drunk with exhaustion. Now his head pounds like a heartbeat, pulsing with a dull ache.





	Some Cupid kills with Arrows

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by @princessamericachavez on tumblr for the reverse prompt thing: "I'm just tired. It's nothing."

He didn’t notice it, at first.

The wound itself is tiny; Beau had caught the arrow before it had stuck into him, snapping it over her knee in triumph. Still, it had nicked his skin - at his side, just between the clasps of his armour, a small puncture in the soft material of his clothing.

He had thought it an unusual target. He supposes now that it makes sense.

Now that his blood feels like sludge in his veins. Now he feels drunk with exhaustion. Now his head pounds like a heartbeat, pulsing with a dull ache.

He leans against the cavern wall, the damp rock cool against his skin.

He thinks of the red liquid of a potion, the strange metallic taste of it, the feeling of its cold contents sliding down his throat.

They had used the last one on Jester.

Jester, sweet, lovely Jester, a look of surprise on her face, clutching the jagged sword stuck through her middle.

His jaw feels slack at the thought of it.

He had been the one to yank the blade free from her unconscious form. The way her body jerked as he did it is an image that will stay with him for the rest of his life.

The potion had stabilised her, prised her eyes open - she had smiled, softly, up at him, tears in her eyes - but she was still weak. And she had only a pinch of magic left.

Enough for one last healing spell.

She insists, still, on checking no one else needs it more, asking each one by one.

“Fjord?” She asks, turning to him.

He tries to disguise his grimace, to keep his voice calm and level. “I’m fine.” He says. “Get yourself healed.”

“You look a little pale.”

She is looking at him with those big doe eyes, worry written all over her features. She is pale, too, a few beads of sweat on her forehead.

Suddenly, it is not so difficult to hide the poison coursing through his veins. He smiles at her, reassuring. “I’m just tired,” He says. “It’s nothing.”

It seems to work - she smiles back at him, albeit a little shakily, and nods. “Okay.”

Molly is looking at him, his lips pressed together. He knows. Fjord can see it. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, and it pounds even at the slight movement.

The glow of magic seals Jester’s wounds, the usual blush of colour returning to her cheeks. She smiles, and relief floods through him. More than that; there’s a feeling in his chest - like a pinprick of light, like a spark.

He waits until the rest of the group are moving again to take a step forward, not trusting himself walk straight - to find Molly standing in front of him, one eyebrow raised.

Fjord groans. “Say nothing.”

Molly just smirks, and holds out an arm. "Come on."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @sarahgotbored


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